Prestidigitation
by queenmab-scherzo
Summary: Mr. Mistoffelees' personal history is relatively eventful, though short. Prepare for card tricks! Also, is anyone else curious as to why the Rum Tum Tugger sings the conjurer's song? ...Deep breath...COMPLETE.
1. The Rum Tum Tugger

**A/N**: Ah, this is my first cats fiction. And like, i had to come up with a title in about five minutes. Ok, didn't have to, but i did for your sake. :)  
I heart Cats. like you have no idea. Well um, anyone who reads Cats fanfiction probably does have some idea. (I'll shut up) TO BUSINESS!:

**Summary**: The full backstory of The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees and his lovely hattricks. (Don't worry, he doesn't play hockey. But that gives me an idea...) Also, does anyone else wonder why the Rum Tum Tugger wants to sing the conjurer's song? (I know, it's a considerably vague summary, but ... hey it got you to click.)

**Disclaimer**: I own none of T. S. Eliot's beautimous cats, nor have I ever written music to his poems. Also, meeting them in my dreams doesn't constitute ownership of Jacob Brent or John Partridge.

:

Mistoffelees' house was far from impenetrable; his humans had a bad habit of leaving windows and doors ajar, and their rooftop was an easy hop from the restaurant's next door. Even that one stormy night in November Tugger had found an open window on the top floor, which was why today, early April, Tugger was downright bewildered to find the house locked down like a bomb shelter.

He had already checked the aforementioned window to the upstairs den. No luck. He'd sauntered shamelessly down the stairs of the restaurant and nicked a chicken leg before being chased out, but when he reached Mistoffelees' front door, it was, for once, shut tight. The curtains on the door were pulled.

Curious.

Knowing the kitchen window was often open or at least uncurtained, he leapt daintily onto the sill outside, still carrying the chicken leg, but was displeased to find another glass barrier and darkness inside. Alright, so it was cold for April. Did that really call for such caution? What kind of burglar were you going to find in this neighborhood, anyway? Aside from the Rum Tum Tugger, of course, but his visits were infrequent and Mistoffelees was the only one who ever knew he was there.

He dropped the chicken and yowled expectantly. See if that kitten got any of Tugger's dinner, now.

He stretched lazily, growing increasingly impatient with his lack of service. He had no desire whatsoever to traipse around to the back of the house now that he was on this window, anyone was perfectly capably of letting him in from here. Gazing into the darkness of the quaint kitchen, Tugger could see no sign of movement, even that quiet little black thing, but nonetheless reached up and scratched the window with a large paw.

It didn't take him long to circle the house once and a second time to be sure that indeed, anything that could serve as an entrance or exit to the house was barred. Surely that didn't mean the kid was trapped inside?

His chicken now lay abandoned on the front step, because he really had no desire to eat it cold. Tugger wanted to trot around the block, maybe for some sign of Mistoffelees. There was none. Funny, that Bombalurina should also be missing in action today, although it was common knowledge she had made plans to go mousing in the alley behind the Glutton, so her absence wasn't nearly as suspicious as Mistoffelees'; and furthermore Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were off terrorizing pollicles at Cornwall Gardens, and Alonzo was stuck watching the kittens all day and all night.

This really only left Munkustrap to keep Tugger company, and it needn't be said that wasn't his first choice. That wasn't his funnest choice, anyway.

:

Indeed, Munkustrap turned out to be less of a bore than usual since he wasn't needed for any business by anyone, unless Tugger's business counted. He was always a good partner for hunting birds, at least when he wasn't distracted by "guard duties," as Tugger referred to them, because he was quick but quiet.

In fact, they had a poor naive pigeon cornered between them after only fifteen minutes; of course, after Tugger launched a reckless (and ineffectual) dive-bomb attack out of his position on the tree branch, which earned him a sharp swat from Munkustrap, they never really got another good chance.

"Weren't you going over to see that little black kitten today?" Munkustrap asked, after they'd found a safe place for relaxing downtown under an abandoned Ford.

"Oh, yeah! He wasn't there. I mean, I didn't see him there. All the windows were shut, I didn't see anyone, actually."

"What do you mean, you didn't see anyone?"

"Oh, you know, those humans. I couldn't find them. And all the windows were shut. Did I say that already...? It was so weird."

"When was that?" Munkustrap asked, gazing across the road at someone taking out their trash.

"Um...maybe an hour ago? No, maybe two?"

"Maybe they're all back now."

:

The Rum Tum Tugger was getting bored. He had already seen this side of town today, but Munkustrap wanted to look again for Mr. Mistoffelees. ("What if he was expecting you, and they were all just asleep, and you insulted him by not showing this morning..." and so on. Munkustrap could give quite a lecture.)

Tugger sniffed at the chicken leg he had abandoned several hours before, and as he was wondering if it might still be any good, his thoughts were interrupted by a shout.

"Hey, Tug, did you hear that?"

_Yes, that chicken is calling my name._ "Hear what?"

Munkustrap took a moment to answer. "There! That!"

Exhasperated, Tugger shouted back, "Where are you even at?"

"Come here!"

Tugger rolled his eyes and followed his friend's voice to the corner of the restaurant. Dusk was falling. He could just make out Munkustrap's bright verdant eyes in the shadow of a beastly pick-up truck. Then, suddenly, he heard a very distinct cry from the alley between the restuarant and the building next door.

Munkustrap saw that Tugger had heard. "That's a cat," he stated.

"That's a hungry cat," Tugger agreed.

:

:

**NOTE: **I hope that didn't bore anyone, I couldn't think of how to start this darn thing!! Feedback would be appreciated, I think my introduction here is less that satisfactory.


	2. Mr Mistoffelees

**AN**: I'm pretty excited about the alliteration in this chapter. Also, the first chapter was somewhat of a prologue, as at this point the story flashes back and picks up a month earlier.

**Summary**: Mr. Mistoffelees' personal history is relatively eventful, though short. Prepare for card tricks! Also, is anyone else curious as to why the Rum Tum Tugger sings the conjurer's song?

**Disclaimer**: I own the original soundtrack, the VHS, and an arrangement for piano and vocal solo of "Memory." I make no profit off of any of them, nor do I make profit off of this story.

:

_One Month Previous_

Tugger gazed idly across the brick street at a large three-story house with unattractive maroon trim. A little black kitten was having trouble scaling the tall front steps, and though Munkustrap would have scolded him for it, Tugger was too comfortable on his stoop to offer any help. The kitten finally reached the top, craned its neck to take in the front door, and turned around again to look down the steps. It had the unmistakable air of being lost. It mewed pitifully.

Tugger raised his head and looked up and down the sidewalk, hoping a random Jellicle might appear to assist the black kitten in its plight. _Of course no one will, not when I'm this comfortable in the sun._

It did take quite a lot of effort to get the Tugger off the stoop, and when he did, he made no hurry to cross the street. Maybe it was careless of him. Traffic could wait. Another bad habit Munkustrap would find shame in.

The kitten had clumsily found his way to the next step down, and was mewing again.

"Hold your horses, for crying out loud."

The kitten froze. He would have disappeared into the shadow of the tall step if it weren't for his enormous eyes and the white patches on his chest and paws. Tugger took a seat on the sidewalk below his counterpart, who gave no sign he might move.

"Do you want some help?" Tugger asked after a short silence. He could just make out a nod.

:

Well, wasn't this interesting company. The Rum Tum Tugger in all his shaggy caramel glory was sitting regally beside a tiny tuxedo tomcat, whose eyes were still the size of teacups.

"So, you said you don't know where you are?" Tugger wasn't looking at the kitten, but his voice was unusually gentle.

"No."

"Where's your mother?"

"I don't know," the kitten replied. He paused, and stared up at Tugger, who by finally returning the stare seemed to give the kitten permission to begin a frantic speech.

"We were somewhere in an alley and it was dark and she said 'Look at that box, doesn't it look comfy' and I said yes and got in it because she told me to and she said not to go anywhere because she would be right back. But she wasn't right back, she was gone a long time!"

The sun had just risen, meaning it had been dark not long ago. Because what was in fact a very short while could feel like "a long time" to a kitten, Tugger was skeptical, but on the other hand, the tuxedo had just recited the script for a mother abandoning her kitten, so he gave him the benefit of the doubt. _Anyway, I haven't seen any queens around for the past hour _I've_ been here._

He sighed. "What's your name, kid?"

There was a pause, and he said in a slightly shaky voice, "Mr. Mistoffelees."

"Mistoffelees?" Tugger answered to see if he'd pronounce the name correctly.

"Mr. Mistoffelees," the kitten corrected him.

Tugger held back a laugh. "Well, I am _the_ Rum Tum Tugger, and I'm pleased to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, the Rum Tum Tugger."

:

"No, I swear, I sat there with him for, like, three hours, and nobody who could be his mother came." Tugger was recounting his experience to Munkustrap and Alonzo. The three of them were lounging on a dresser with a broken mirror.

Munkustrap looked doubtful. "What if he'd just wandered too far off, and she couldn't find him either?"

"No, seriously, I took him up and down the street and into all the alleys I could think of in that neighborhood. All I saw was a rat outside a pub, not even a single cat down the whole six blocks."

"Well--where is he now?" Alonzo asked, glancing around as though Tugger might have hidden the kitten under an old shoebox.

"He--he wanted to go back to his box," Tugger's voice was unsure. "I guess--I mean, he thought his mom might still come back. I think."

Alonzo and Munkustrap stared. Tugger appreciated the thick fur that covered up his reddening face.

Munkustrap looked sad. "How long ago was that?"

"Only about half an hour. I--I just thought I'd tell you. I mean, I guess I wanted to...to ask you..."

"You can bring him back here if he wants." It was lucky Munkustrap was good at reading minds.

:

Tugger approached Mr. Mistoffelees' box, which he had shown him less than an hour ago, and dropped a bit of a steak outside the opening. The kitten appeared, and smiled shyly.

"Go ahead, eat."

His order was not disobeyed. The steak was gone before Tugger could think of anything else to say, and when the black cat looked up at him, finished, he just added, "There's more on the house's front step."

It was the house with the maroon trim again. Tugger's half-eaten steak lay on the bottom step, and it was soon devoured by Mistoffelees as well.

"So, Mr. Mistoffelees," Tugger began. "I was wondering if you'd--if you'd like to come stay with me and my friends for awhile, and ... wait for your mother there. We have lots of food and...and toys." He wondered what might interest Mistoffelees, anyway.

There was a pause. "Is my mommy coming back?"

"I--"

"Look, a KITTY!"

Tugger was abruptly interrupted by a shrill voice that came from somewhere high above the cats. They both froze and Tugger looked up wildly. It was a small human.

"Mommy, Daddy, a kitty!! Can I keep it?!"

"Oh, shi--sheep--" Tugger caught himself before darting off the stoop in mild panic. He stopped more than twenty feet away to look back, and saw Mistoffelees' eyes looking at him from between the little girl's hands. He looked ridiculously terrified, but seemed unable to move in the clutches of the child.

Then the child turned and saw Tugger, and was again overcome with excitement, and then the parents looked at him, too, so he left hurriedly.

:

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**AN**: It's getting there, it's getting there.


	3. People

**Summary**: Mr. Mistoffelees' personal history is relatively eventful, though short. Prepare for card tricks! Also, is anyone else curious as to why the Rum Tum Tugger sings the conjurer's song?

**AN**: 1) 110 hits and only six reviews? Guys! Get on that, already! 2) I have a regional softball game tonight, but I already had this written so...here. 3) I got to play Apples to Apples today! 4) This continue the flashback, as I've indicated. I kind of like this scene, it actually begins to address the summary. Namely, Mistoffelees backstory. And an explanation behind the slight of hand described in his poem/song, which...

**Disclaimer**: ...I do not own. I've borrowed the characters and the scenario and the names. In fact, the plot in this chapter is very barely my own.

:

_One month previous_

"Dinner!" the male human called upstairs to his offspring.

"Daddy! There's something on the roof!"

"What? What'd it sound like?!"

"There's not someone up there, is there?"

"Ah-it's probably just Quaxo, that's where he hides when he gets out the window." Only the father was rational, though inaccurate. He led the way upstairs.

The humans' voices died away as three or four of them left the room. Mistoffelees (stretched comfortably across the hearth), wondered vaguely when they would realize he had in fact never been on the roof, and would certainly never get there by going through a window. Then his ears pricked; he heard a rustle, and then a soft thud that caused him to jump nearly three feet. A fuzzy pair of ears and big brown eyes peered around the sofa.

"You!"

The Rum Tum Tugger laughed. "Dude, Misto, your tail is huge!"

"You scared me!!"

His head disappeared again as he looked back over his shoulder. "Yeah, I don't think I broke it--"

"What did you break?!" Mistoffelees would surely get all the blame for this.

"I said I didn't!"

"Come out where I can see you. Rum Tum Tugger? That is you, right?"

He hesitated to answer, and to comply with Mistoffelees' request. "..Yes.."

When he stepped into view, Mistoffelees realized why he'd been reluctant. His fur was matted and stringy -- he was nearly soaked, in fact, as though he had recently been doused with a hose. He shook himself vigorously, spraying Mistoffelees and making him jump again. "Sorry."

"What happened?" Mistoffelees was slightly awe-struck, never having seen the Rum Tum Tugger in a state other than clean-cut perfection, and secretly hoping for an impressive story behind the appearance.

"Well, it's a rather long walk from the junkyard, you see," Tugger began, and looked at the kitten expectantly, who did not catch on. "...Okay. And -- well, it feels much longer in the rain."

"It's raining?" Mistoffelees asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, thank you," Tugger replied, maybe a bit huffy. "And your roof is really slippery, I gotta tell you, and those humans should really think about shutting the window in the bedroom upstairs, the newspaper's soaked. As am I."

"That was you on the roof?" Mistoffelees couldn't help but smile. "They thought it was me. But..."

"But what?"

"But why are you even here?"

Mistoffelees hardly expected the Rum Tum Tugger had navigated the downtown area in a heavy rain just to hang out with him. Was this about him living in the junkyard again? Because, though Tugger meant well, Mistoffelees suspected he would be fine with the humans he'd found.

"Can't a guy come by to check on his friend?"

"Oh--yes!" Mistoffelees hoped he hadn't insulted Tugger. On the other hand, he still had to hold back laughter over the cat's bedraggled state. Tugger noticed this.

"Are you laughing at me?" Tugger demanded jokingly.

"Um--" Poor timid Mistoffelees was far from prepared for the tom's bantering.

"No, really, though, I did just want to see you," Tugger said more seriously.

"Oh."

"I felt terrible for running off like that, I'm really not into getting cooped up inside anyplace. Were they too bad?"

"Um. The humans? They...no, they were nice. I got food," Mistoffelees trailed off, unsure of himself now that Tugger seemed to have stopped paying attention.

The tom examined his surroundings. The only light in the room came from the fireplace and a lamp in a far corner. The furniture looked puffy and expensive, and the room had a sort of shadowy crimson glow to it, probably due to the red curtains, upholstery, and carpeting. He changed the subject in the hopes of putting the kitten more at ease. "So, they really think you're on the roof?"

"They think so pretty often, actually."

"But you're right here," Tugger stated obviously.

"Yes. I think you're giving humans more credit than they deserve," Mistoffelees replied, making Tugger laugh.

The latter continued to take in the cozy living room. He leapt onto the sofa, making Mistoffelees cringe (though he was of course too shy to object or point out the Tugger's wet feet).

"I like it here," Tugger asserted his approval. He made it sound as though no one else should like it here until he did.

"Me, too," Mistoffelees agreed softly.

Clumsy footsteps could suddenly be heard descending the stairs, and Tugger assumed a protective stance.

"Oh--you can get out of here easily enough," Mistoffelees said quickly, noting his friend's concern. "Here, just right through this door," he led the way to a dark doorway somewhere on the left side of the fireplace, "and there's an open window up above the cabinet in there, too."

Tugger had just hopped onto said cabinet when the humans trekked back into the little red den. "Have you seen my fork?" One of them asked vaguely.

"See you, kid," Tugger saluted a farewell and disappeared into the storm.

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	4. Quaxo

**Summary**: Mr. Mistoffelees' personal history is relatively eventful, though short. Prepare for card tricks! Also, is anyone else curious as to why the Rum Tum Tugger sings the conjurer's song?

**AN**: More funny and hopefully not unnecessary work with Misto and his tricks. "He is equally cunning with dice," Tugger said. A week has passed since they met.  
Also, I didn't know chapter three was that bad. To not receive a single review. Yes--t's only been so long, but I'm a rather impatient person--I know I've been updating ... probably faster than I should :) (is that possible?). Well anyway ... a lack of response won't stop me writing until I'm totally out of steam.

**Disclaimer**: All the credit for this belongs to T. S. Eliot for the imagination and Andrew Lloyd Webber for introducing it to the world, bless them.

_:_

_Three Weeks Previous_

The Rum Tum Tugger snuck up behind Mistoffelees, who was poking at a pair of dice.

"You scared me again!" the kitten pointed out, slightly less uncomfortable around Tugger than when they'd met. "And how do you keep getting in here?"

"You say that like it should be hard. I think three windows on the back of the house are open today. You should get on those people about that--it's almost December."

"Oh, but...I can't just...tell them to shut a window..."

"True," Tugger replied, honestly having not thought of that particular dilemma. "Of course, if you started escaping out of open windows, they might start shutting them."

"But I don't want outside, it's cold!"

Tugger laughed, hopefully not too insulting, and changed the subject. "What's with the dice?"

Mistoffelees looked where he was pointing, and picked them up. "I was just playing. You want to? Here--throw a seven."

"What?"

"Throw a seven."

Tugger laughed again, said alright, and tossed the dice, which landed on two and three.

"That's only five," Mistoffelees pointed out unnecessarily.

"Um--yes, well, I'm good and all, but I can't will them to be seven on purpose or anything."

Mistoffelees, confused, said that he could. The elder cat raised an eyebrow. "I thought that was the point," the kitten added hesitantly.

"You though...? Okay, throw a twelve," Tugger demanded.

Mistoffelees complied.

"How did you do that?!"

"I don't know!" Both cats sounded almost frightened.

"Do it again!"

Mr. Mistoffelees did so.

The Rum Tum Tugger stared.

"You do that intentionally?"

"I thought everyone could," Mistoffelees said quietly.

"Misto, that's completely amazing," Tugger grinned and ruffled his mane. The younger cat smiled shyly.

"Why do you call me that?"

"What--Misto? I don't care to call you by your full name in an informal situation such as this, if that pleases you, Mr. Mistoffelees."

The addressee didn't know what to say; Tugger knew he was thoroughly emarassing his new friend, and of course he enjoyed it. He glanced at the dice. "Throw a ... three."

Mistoffelees threw a three. And then he threw a four, five, and six at Tugger's orders.

"Throw a one," the tomcat said slyly.

Mistoffelees tossed the dice; one hit the wall and landed on a one, but the other disappeared through the crack under the door. Tugger was ready to either scream in delight or faint from astonishment, but he heard heavy footsteps from the parlor and darted under a corner table with a long tablecloth.

"Oh, crap," Mistoffelees muttered, thrusting his paw through the crack under the door to try and reach the die that had escaped, not having noticed his friend's flight. _Language, kitten,_ Tugger thought silently.

"Quaxo, honey, did you find a mousie?" the woman just entering the room asked in an unusually high-pitched voice. "You make sure he stays outside!" And she shuffled away, happy about her mouse-free house. "Did somebody move my spoon?" she asked vaguely as she wandered by Tugger's hiding place.

Tugger padded out from under the small table. "Mousie? Quaxo?"

"Mmm," Mistoffelees replied, still groping for the missing die, and added distractedly, "it's a human thing."

A pause. "Can't reach, Shorty?" Tugger grinned.

"I can too."

"Can't you--um--magic it back on this side of the door? ...She's gone, you know."

"Oh, never mind!" Mistoffelees gave up in frustration.

"Aw, come on, you can do it, Quaxo!" The larger cat stuck out his tongue after using the unfamiliar name.

"Hey, it is Mr. Mistoffelees, thank you, people come up with the dumbest names--"

"Quaxo?"

"Stop it! They think they're very clever, you know, for coming up with a nice, unusual, one-of-a-kind name. 'For a one-of-a-kind cat'," he repeated a sentence he had heard every time a stranger was told the cat's name.

Another pause.

"And you think...?"

"I think it makes me sound like a duck."

Tugger laughed, one of those honest, completely spontaneous, very real laughs. Mistoffelees smiled and looked at his feet, entirely too timid for Tugger's taste.

He couldn't be any older than Tumblebrutus -- well, maybe, but less than a month older -- but Tugger could hardly see himself having this good of a time with him or any of the other kittens in the yard. Too bad he'd fallen for the pampered lifestyle. Anyway, maybe Munkustrap or Bombalurina would like to see the dice trick. Or maybe they would just get to lose a few bets to the Rum Tum Tugger.

On his way back to the junkyard, a fork lying in the backyard glinted and caught his eye.

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**AN**: And chapter four es termino! And we haven't really scratched the plot's surface, how lovely.  
**2AN**: I'm currently enjoying _Wicked_ by Gregory Maguire, pretty cool so far. Never seen the musical, but we did play the music in marching band.


	5. Bombalurina

**Summary**: Mr. Mistoffelees' personal history is relatively eventful, though short. Prepare for card tricks! Also, is anyone else curious as to why the Rum Tum Tugger sings the conjurer's song?

**AN**: Yes, this chapter is a small bit longer than usual, that shouldn't be a bad thing. I would like to personally thank fantasymonk for feeding my ego ;) it's much appreciated and probably undeserved; and I'm also extremely grateful to ALL my other reviewers, you're TOO kind, (I'm not overly familiar with rules or I would mention everyone by name!) now my goal is officially DOUBLE DIGITS. Speaking of numbers, I honestly have no idea how many chapters this story will have! It's moving along, though.

**Disclaimer**: I own cats! Their names are Iago, Cheezer, Merry and Pippin. In fact, Pippin tried to help me type a bit of this lovely chapter.

:

_One Week Previous_

"I don't think my mom liked me." Mistoffelees' statement was completely out of left field. Tugger had made himself comfortable on a windowsill next to his friend, and had commented on the weather, and had been happy with the silence, which for once wasn't awkward. And then the kitten--okay, almost a cat now--had brought up that mother of his.

"That's not possible," Tugger said, and added, "to not like you, I mean."

Misto was _so_ easily embarrassed.

"She never came back," Mistoffelees continued.

"That's her problem. She didn't know what she was missing."

There was a longer pause. Mistoffelees was looking considerably dejected, so Tugger made an attempt at lightening the mood. "What did she look like? Your mom?"

Mistoffelees took a moment to remember. "She was fluffy, like you."

Tugger shook out his mane.

"And she was white, with black and orange and brown. There was a black spot over her eye. I remember that. Her eyes were ... green."

The Rum Tum Tugger had never seen such a queen. If she had abandoned Misto, she'd done quite a good job of it.

And then the kitten surprised him. "What about your mommy? What did she look like?"

Tugger was silent for a long time.

"... Tugger?"

"She was little."

The kitten looked guilty and confused. He must have said something wrong, for the tomcat to have suddenly become so stony and quiet.

"She had long hair. Like--brown, I think."

"Like you!" Mistoffelees smiled.

"No," Tugger said tersely.

Mistoffelees was still thoroughly bewildered, and hoped he hadn't made Tugger mad. This was all very weird. Speaking of awkward silences.

"Isn't it about naptime for you, kid?" Tugger didn't say it in a mean way; he was obviously trying very hard to change the subject, and to make Mistoffelees smile again.

"I--naptime--?"

"I'm just messing with you."

"Look, I think the human--the lady--she brought some fish paste home last night...?"

Tugger smiled. "I'm gonna stay right here and wait for the sun to come out."

_Well that's not any fun at all_, Mistoffelees thought. But the big tom didn't have that distant look on his face anymore, it was just the normal smug expression he was used to, so he wasn't going to argue with anything.

:

"Bombalurina."

Mistoffelees pronounced it perfectly. Back in the junkyard, the only kitten his age who'd said it on the first try was Jemima.

"Pleased to meet you."

Bomba was genuinely amused. "And you, Mr. Mistoffelees." He kept glancing at Tugger for approval. It was too adorable. She had to remind herself how irksome kittens could really be to keep herself from scooping Mistoffelees up and taking him home with her then and there.

"You can call him Misto," Tugger said lazily.

"I like _Mr. Mistoffelees _just fine, thank you," she retorted.

"...Well, you never call me by my full name," Tugger said, frowning.

The subject of their discussion promptly pulled a daisy from thin air and handed it to her.

"And when was the last time you gave me flowers?"

"So, have you tried any card tricks, Misto?" a thoroughly irritated Tugger promptly changed the subject.

"Not much." He still didn't have much to say. On the other hand, he'd been eyeing the brand new deck of cards Tugger had brought with him.

In the past two weeks he had had a good time experimenting with dice, silverware, champaign bottles, and flowers when Tugger came to visit, which was maybe once or twice a week. The tomcat never did anything exciting himself (although sometimes he brought snacks to share), but seemed to have a good time discovering what Mistoffelees was capable of. This was the first time he'd brought another cat along. They were in a far corner of the attic, and the sun was shining between clouds, providing good light and temperature. Mistoffelees began shuffling the deck.

"You sure you don't want to see a trick with the dice?" Tugger asked Bombalurina.

"This is fine. You'll only bet on him," the queen replied tartly, not taking her eyes off the kitten. One of those moods. She'd never even asked for flowers, what was he supposed to do?

The tuxedo tomcat looked up at his audience and indicated they each draw a card. They looked at each other, and did so, keeping their cards hidden.

"You can look at each other's, it doesn't matter," Mistoffelees said, once again shuffling the 50 cards he had left.

Bombalurina shrugged and leaned over to see what Tugger held. The ace of hearts. She had the ace of spades.

"Let's see," Mistoffelees said, picking the top card from his stack. "Let's see if I can find--no, this can't be your card." He tossed the ace of clubs before them. Tugger raised an eyebrow. Bombalurina opened her mouth to point out that they still held their cards, but the magician spoke again: "No, not this one either, right?" and dropped the ace of diamonds.

"Misto--"

"Must be this one," he interrupted and flipped over the ace of spades. "Bombalurina, right?"

The queen stared. Her card was the ace of spades. The card on the floor was the ace of spades.

"Yours might be a little harder," Mistoffelees continued, holding back a smile as he looked at Tugger. He split the deck, shuffled it, and pulled out a random card from the middle of the pack. "Ah. Found it." Now he grinned. "You had the ace of hearts." And he showed Tugger the same card he held in his hand.

"That's phenomenal," Bomba said, smiling.

"What kind of deck is that, anyway?" Tugger asked.

"_You_ brought it!" Bombalurina accused, taking the kitten's side, naturally.

"I told you he was cool, though," Tugger pointed out, smug.

Mistoffelees muttered something about not actually being very cool.

"And here I thought you were good with the silverware last weekend," Tugger continued.

The little black kitten purred despite himself. Downstairs, the little girl who had snatched him up almost three weeks ago turned to the hearth rug, sure she had heard her cat; she looked around the back of the chair, and under it, but Quaxo wasn't there.

:

"Tugger, where've you been?" Alonzo was the first to greet him when he returned to the yard with Bombalurina. If he had any courtesy, he would leave them to each other; Tugger wanted... well, anyway. She wasn't the easiest queen to seduce, that was all.

"Just--a magic show," Tugger replied in what he hoped was not an inviting voice.

Alonzo, in all his innocent ignorance, plowed on. "Magic what? Are you kidding?"

Bomba looked distracted, and Tugger would have had no problem leaving his friend without an answer if Munkustrap and Skimbleshanks (of course he would be in town tonight) had not overheard and approached him expectantly. He glanced desperately between the toms and Bomba, but it was too late: "Oh, there's Demeter, I should--see you around, Tug..."

He closed his eyes in a prayer for patience. "And it's always Tug. Am I ever called the Rum Tum Tugger? No. Not by _Bombalurina_."

Munkustrap laughed heartily, but Alonzo was oblivious. "No, for real, where the heck do you find a magic show?"

Well, Tugger could be forgiving. The ball was relatively soon, anyway. She would say yes eventually. So he answered Alonzo, "So there's this little black cat downtown, right? He was just doing some card tricks. He's cool, seriously, like I guess he can make things disappear and stuff."

He didn't really know why he was leaving out his entire relationship with Mistoffelees.

"But, wait," Munkustrap was confused. "Does he live on the streets or something? Who is he?" Of course, Munkustrap thought he knew every cat and kitten east of the Atlantic, after all.

"Oh, no! He's a housecat."

"And...you met him how?" Alonzo asked, perhaps a bit suspiciously.

"I met him when he got caught!" Tugger sounded proud.

And that started quite a discussion, in which Skimbleshanks in particular was thoroughly interested, having nearly been "caught" himself (more than once), and Alonzo at least was very impressed with Tugger for having gotten away. Munkustrap could probably tell he was embellishing that particular part of the story, especially the part about the net, which even Tugger didn't think sounded overly realistic. That is the problem with good friends, after all, because they tend to know you very, very well. Munks was a polite listener, at least, and didn't even accuse him of exaggerating while they walked back to their dens, which were only separated by a tarp and four or five layers of cardboard.

:


	6. Munkustrap

**AN**: This is short. (Dramatic? LOL). But hopefully satisfying.  
A very special thanks to Tammy for being my 10th review--it was amazing :) and to everyone else who keeps reviewing and keeps coming back for more.  
I graduate from high school tomorrow!  
This update picks up where chapter one left off, just so yall know.

**Disclaimer**: I dressed up as a Cat for Halloween when I was about eight, it was fabulous and fuzzy and had some sweet legwarmers and so on. The praise I received for that costume is probably as close as I'll come to profiting off of Cats.

:

_Three Hours Previous_

Tugger was wondering why Mistoffelees asked about his mother. What a stupid question, anyway, what did she look like? He sort of remembered, but that wasn't the point. He wanted desperately to ask Munkustrap--his half-brother, of course on Deuteronomy's side, figures--if he remembered anything about Tugger's mom, he was so good with faces and ... remembering things. Munkustrap knew they didn't talk, but did he remember why? Maybe. Hopefully.

_Seriously, though, if that kitten asks again..._ the Rum Tum Tugger didn't even finish the thought, didn't know how, anyway. On the other hand, Mistoffelees would actually understand, would empathize. Perhaps better than Munkustrap, the master handling empathy. Okay, maybe he wanted Mistoffelees to ask the question again.

:

_Present_

Indeed it was a cat, and he was hungry. The little black cat was pacing at the back of the alley. Tugger recognized him immediately--he'd known all along, or expected it all along, though of course he'd hoped to be wrong.

Mistoffelees yelled again and fell to his knees. He looked nothing like the lost kitten Tugger had first met outside the front of the house, although there was a lost look in his eyes. It was hopelessly lost, not confused-lost. It was a lost that admitted defeat, and wanted just to sit in a dark corner and never be found. And hungry.

"That's the magician?" Munkustrap looked stunned.

Tugger only nodded and wondered why his voice didn't work.

Munkustrap wanted to say something, but he couldn't remember the name; it was long, and it was, M, something, "M-Mr.--um--"

"Misto."

The kitten stared at Tugger. He looked terrified, and shrank back into the wall behind him.

"Misto," the tom repeated. "Why aren't...what happened?" He was talking so quietly, Munkustrap was surprised the kitten even heard.

Mistoffelees kept staring, and Tugger looked back. It felt like a long time to Munkustrap, and like he was being left out of a conversation even though nothing was being said. Mistoffelees was the first to finally speak.

"I woke up and went downstairs and no one was there." Pause. "It took forever to find a way out--the attic window was loose, though...and they still haven't come back...and I looked in this restaurant. That you always talk about. And the cook kicked me...and when I got outside a dog chased me all over."

He sounded like he had more to say, but didn't.

Munkustrap was on the verge of asking Mistoffelees if he wanted to come back to the junkyard when the Rum Tum Tugger said sharply, "You're coming back home. With us." _Now_.

"But I just...no one wants me anymore," Mistoffelees said softly, his voice cracking, and his eyes filling with tears.

"That isn't true!" Munkustrap said automatically, appalled at the very thought.

Mistoffelees opened his mouth, but couldn't come up with his voice, and cried instead.

Tugger blinked back his tears and, suddenly, without realizing what he was doing, he stepped forward and swiftly pulled the little black cat into an embrace. His tiny paws clutched the fur of Tugger's mane as he buried his face into the tom's chest and wept. The kitten almost instantly relaxed -- probably, Tugger thought sadly, just relieved to be held. He kept struggling not to cry with Mistoffelees.

"They don't. No one wants me." The kitten's voice was nearly inaudible.

"We do," Tugger whispered back, holding Mistoffelees close. "We want you."

:


	7. Jellicle Cats

**AN**: Well, this chapter may go over very well or very poorly. You see, I have several later scenes ready to go, but there is definitely an "in between" time here that I need to address in the lovely Chapter 7. The so-called writer in me wanted to experiment a bit. Here goes.

**Disclaimer**: It doesn't belong to me. I didn't even make up a character I can call my own.

:

"It's so dark...the moon isn't even out."

"Has he said anything yet?"

"...No. I think he fell asleep. I hope."

"Demeter said he could stay with us, and Jellylorum offered to help--basically, everyone will lend a hand."

"Sure. He's adorable."

"That's not the only reason."

"I want him to stay with me, just for now."

"We all do. I think he would prefer it. Well, he didn't mind, tonight, anyway."

"... It was supposed to be warmer tonight."

"Stop changing the subject."

"What? You have something else to say about him? He's in my bed, he's alive, he's probably listening to our discussion now--"

"Calm down, Tug."

"Quit telling me what all I can't talk about."

"You know, queens on the street are leaving their kittens behind all the time--"

"Hey--that's not--I wasn't--shut up, it's not, that's not what I was talking about."

:

"Was it very cold for him last night?"

"No, my little den stays out of the wind and everything. It was fine."

"I was just curious, because if he stayed with Pounce and his brothers with me, they could all stay warm. But I'm sure you were both fine. ...They would be a bad influence, anyway."

"Heh. Some people would say I'm a bad enough influence."

"I think like six different people already told Deuteronomy, and didn't you, Jelly--?"

"Yes, I felt stupid when I saw Munk himself going as I was coming, but I went ahead anyway."

"Yeah, I told Alonzo to pass the news along to the important people."

"He's good at his job, then, Skimble, because I gotta think everyone knows a new kitten's around whether they're important or not."

:

Mistoffelees shifted to the side so he might stay in the patch of sun that shone on his perch just above the other kittens. That one--Bailey?--played really rough. The only ones left wrestling him were Pouncival, the elder, and Tumblesomething, who seemed to be running the show from behind the scenes, anyway. The girls (now grooming themselves and each other), Carbucketty, and George were all off to one side, having already given up the attempt. Mistoffelees had only barely included himself to begin with, so he wasn't missed. After all, he wasn't any bigger than Carbucketty, who was months younger.

:

"Yes, he's speaking now, but, I guess, mostly just to a few adults."

"Doesn't he like the kittens?"

"He does, right?"

"Oh, yeah, he was all saying how cool Pounce is and how nice Jemima is, but... I don't know. Misto never talked much to begin with."

"He likes them, he's just shy."

"Right."

"He's not even a year old, he'll surely grow out of that."

"Heh, you didn't. You can be pretty shy."

"Not when her sister's around."

"You could talk to me instead of about me, Tugger."

"I'm just saying. Hey, Jenny."

"Hi there! The kittens are so cute with Mr. Mistoffelees. Well--a few of them, at least. Well. The girls."

"The toms don't like him?"

"They do, they certainly like him, but I think Tumblebrutus finds him boring. But they like him, sure, they'll let him play if he wants to. They like how he looks so much different from them all."

"Will he be doing anything for the ball?"

"... Well."

"Um, he could...help--"

"He can do something. If he wants. He's a good dancer, I don't know where he got it from."

"Is he? How do you know, of all people?"

"Oh. I don't know..."

"Wait, a good dancer? Would he join the pirate crew for Gus? If you asked?"

"...I'll ask."

:

:

**AN**: I wrote this in a short amount of time, and let it out as a sort of stream-of-consciousness, and I have no plans to go back and edit it, so I hope there are no mistakes :)


	8. Seven Kittens

**AN**: -Thank you everyone for the kind reviews, I know the last chapter was weird. The point was, it wasn't exactly important who was saying what, not for the plot, and anyway I hope it was a fun mystery instead of just unbelievably frustrating )  
-Also, I hope this chapter is more satisfying, its more a normal length and everything. To all my reviewers, I love the feedback like you have no idea, I don't think I would have gotten this far if no one left such nice reviews! Thanks for asking questions, offering ideas (whether intentionally or not ;) , and telling me how it is in general. Right now, my only worry is that my little Mistoffelees verges on being too perfect. It's ok though, I guess he's not actually what you'd call the protagonist.

**Dislaimer**: The cats I own do not dance or sing.

:

Tugger was lounging in a broken dresser drawer and staring at the cloudy nighttime sky, and didn't even hear Munkustrap before he leapt onto the top of the dresser. "Whoa! Don't freak me out like that, Munkus..."

The tabby cat smiled and looked up where Tugger had been gazing. "I think the storms are blowing away," he commented.

Tugger looked between his friend and the moon. "So, uh, you only come over to chat about the weather?"

"With you? No, actually," Munkustrap finally looked at the lazy tom, "I wanted to ask what was with you and the kid."

"With me and what kid?"

"The new kid, Tugger. You know, you remember, 'no one wants him'?"

Of course Tugger remembered, but he kept stalling anyway. "Where is he?" he asked.

"With Bustopher Jones. He seemed to like the kitten. Could just be because he reminds him of himself."

Tugger knew that, too, and he got the impression that now Munkustrap was only humoring him. That wasn't going to stop him from stalling, but it did mean Munkustrap wasn't going to forget his orginal question. "I forgot he was in the yard," Tugger mumbled. Lying.

"Tugger." Munkustrap's voice was gentle, but still demanded his brother's attention. "Why is he so special to you?"

"Mistoffelees?"

Munkustrap didn't answer. He only gave him that drill sergeant stare, the one that could even get Tumblebrutus to admit guilt.

Rum Tum Tugger heaved a sigh. "Well, why shouldn't he be special?" he turned the question around. "He was so sad, didn't it make you want to cry, too? He thought nobody wanted him, I mean, just imagine." He stopped before his voice broke.

"Victoria said the same thing four months ago."

"No," Tugger snapped, "she was a little brat, and she said 'My family didn't want me after all, I put a collar on for them and then they just left me!' She was mad. She wasn't sad. She just wanted us to treat her like a princess." He paused, swallowed. He was staring ahead now, but didn't see the junkyard; he recalled the little black cat and his tears, shrinking back into the brick alley wall. "Mistoffelees really believed no one wanted him."

Munkustrap nodded, smiling solemnly, but didn't speak, knowing Tugger wasn't finished. He sighed again. "And I guess I believed that once myself."

There was a long while of silence. Perhaps the toms were avoiding each other's gaze, perhaps they found each other's presence comforting. Perhaps Munkustrap wanted Tugger to continue. Perhaps Tugger forgot Munkustrap was even there. Too often, after all, one lets his memories crowd out his thoughts.

"You don't blame me, anymore? Do you?" Munkustrap said, after an undeterminable amount of time.

"I never did," Tugger said, too fast. His brother laughed.

"You did."

The Rum Tum Tugger thought for a moment. "Your mother was the one who stayed, after all. I was only, what, a year and half old or something?"

"Younger than that. You know it."

Tugger nodded. Munkustrap continued, "I know my mother stayed. She never liked Grizabella, though; yours did."

"Your mom was nice."

"I recall you didn't attend her funeral."

Tugger didn't answer. He didn't really have anything to say; the truth was he had been glad--or not glad--just maybe relieved--when Munkustrap's mother did the courtesy of leaving her son as his own mother had left him so many years previous; and anyway he was a terrible liar, especially to Munkus.

He was also thinking again about the short period after his abandonment during which he had hated his half brothers for having parents. Munkustrap more than Alonzo, who Tugger didn't have nearly as much respect for, and more than Macavity, who had been growing more distant at the time. Macavity had been cool for awhile, but when the older kittens his age stopped playing with him and played with Tugger instead, well ... overall, Munkustrap was the only one he could be jealous of.

And that Grizabella. Dumb whore. And her whore posse. If not for her, his mother wouldn't have up and left her ten-month-old kitten.

Tugger didn't hear the next thing Munkustrap said.

:

Jellylorum looked like she had walked through a hurricane. One toe out of line from anyone might put her over the edge.

"When I find that Tumblebrutus, I promise you, by the Everlasting Cat--oh, Tugger!" she looked at him with wide eyes. "Have you seen any of the kittens around here? I swear, I've been looking for them for almost an hour, and they said they would be by for a bath, and have I seen one of them? Hardly. I thought at least Victoria might want to look nice for the Ball, kittens these days!"

"Um--"

"Yes, I would hardly expect the Rum Tum Tugger to help me track down a group of unruly kittens, they learned all their tricks from you."

"Yes--well--if I see them, you know, I'll reel 'em in for you. That is--how many did you say there were?"

"Six or seven, maybe eight, the usual suspects...Tumble and Victoria I said, Bill Bailey, Jemima, Electra and Etcetera, Carbucketty--Pouncival if you see him--I think Jenny already found Sillabub...oh, oh, Electra!" she spotted one missing kitten and left without farewell. Poor Jellylorum was far past frustration. As she bustled away, Tugger noticed Mistoffelees opened his mouth to speak, glancing hesitantly between himself and the distraught queen. He asked the kitten what the matter was.

"Um. Well I, I can get them," he said in that quiet voice.

"You know where they are?"

"Well, no, I just, I can bring them here."

Tugger raised an eyebrow. If they didn't come when their mothers called, were the likes of Tumblebrutus and his faithful sidekick Bill Bailey likely to come at the sound of little Misto's voice? The kitten kept looking out of the corner of his eye, then returning his shy gaze to the Tugger, who followed Mistoffelees' eyes curiously, and only found a large tophat that sat outside Bustopher's little den. Or, relatively large den, as it had to accomodate Bustopher Jones on the weekends.

"You can bring...? What do mean, kid?" Tugger wasn't understanding at all.

"Um...you remember the card trick?"

"Of course. Six aces, you were amazing."

"Okay, well, watch."

Mistoffelees approached the tophat. It was nearly as big as him. He peered over the brim, and motioned for Tugger to look inside, as well. The hat was empty. He glanced around, and found no one but himself and Tugger. He prodded that hat once, twice, and the third time, pushed it over backwards. Tugger, confused and uninterested in human headwear, scratched his head and wondered vaguely where he might find bacon in the morning.

"Hey--what the--where--what the heck?!" Tumblebrutus' voice was shrill and sudden and startled Tugger from his daydream. The kitten's hair was on end, making him appear twice his normal size when he stepped fearfully from behind the hat.

"You!" was all Tugger could say.

Tumblebrutus was frozen in place.

Mistoffelees gave the hat another good nudge and Bill Bailey toppled out onto Tumble's backside, making him jump a foot in terror. Bill, unlike his counterpart, was not twice his size but rather half his size, with his ears flat to his head and his tail wound tightly around his back legs.

"Mistoffelees...?" Tugger turned to the tuxedo, but he had already returned his attention to the hat, out of which Etcetera tumbled with a squeal.

Then in quick succession Victoria, with a shoelace in her mouth, Jemima, covered in soot, and a flustered Pouncival all spilled out of the tophat; the six of them were in varying states of shock, fear, and bewilderment. Tumblebrutus, the first out of the hat and the quickest to think on his feet, was eyeing an escape route, which Tugger took note of and scooped him up by the nape of the neck, then did the same with Bill Bailey, who was fully capable of leading the mischief brigade in Tumble's incapacitation. Tugger looked down at the remaining four and grinned; the girls swooned. "Follow me, kids," he said happily, just in time for little Carbucketty to flop out of the hat onto Jemima's tail. The tiny splotched kitten looked, astonished, at his friends, at the Rum Tum Tugger who had tamed Tumblebrutus, and back into the hat that might be able to hold him alone, but certainly not seven of them.

Because Tugger had a firm hold on Tumble and Bill Bailey, and because Etcetera, Jemima, and Victoria were thoroughly smitten and would have done anything he asked, Pouncival and Carbucketty, with no room to argue, were obliged to follow the tom all the way to Jennyanydots and Jellylorum on top of the grand piano.

:

:

AN: Good? LOL hopefully not bad, anyway. I've had both parts of this chapter written FOREVER, please let me know how they go over!


	9. Grizabella

**AN**: I can't thank everyone enough for the spectacular reviews the last chapter got! Thanks to new reviewers, too, like Cascaper (8 in a row yay!) and madicullen, and semi-new readers like Laocoons :) ... I'm forever grateful to everyone. Hopefully this chapter is up to par.  
In addition, I haven't studied or analyzed the scenes in the movie or the performance enough to comment on all the little nuances, and at any rate if my depictions of the ball don't match those you've seen, well, I guess my excuse is um, it's fiction ) yay.

**Disclaimer**: I'm running out of clever ways to establish how very far I am from owning Cats.

:

"The Rum Tum Tugger!" Mistoffelees said, grinning, as he bounded up next to him on the car hood.

"If it isn't the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees," Tugger completed the joke.

The Jellicle Ball was now less than forty-eight hours away, and Tugger had been dealing with the building excitement by exerting himself as little as possible. Mistoffelees had become just a little more energetic and friendly than usual, a testament to how giddy the event made everyone in the junkyard. The kitten also knew Tugger was forcing the relaxation upon himself, for he rarely slept in the sun with open eyes and a twitching tail.

"What's up?" the tom asked, reclining again against the windshield.

"So--this ball," Misto began.

Tugger smiled.

"What--I was just wondering, you know, what it is and all, I guess," the kitten asked. It was obviously a question he'd been looking to ask for some time. Tugger felt bad for having spent more time with the queens than Mistoffelees lately. But...not too bad, of course.

"The Jellicle Ball," the tom said, melodramatic as he was. "When cats are maddened by the midnight dance."

Tugger's eyes had gone wide and misty, and he stared mysteriously at the kitten, who only looked confused. "But I won't even know what to do!"

Tugger laughed. "You're new, you don't have to do anything."

"Yeah--well--what's the point of it, then?"

"The point is for Old Deuteronomy--you know him, right? You met him? The point is for Old Deuteronomy to pick one of us, one of the Jellicles living here...or I guess not living here, too...anyway, he chooses one Cat to go to the Heaviside Layer."

Mistoffelees cocked his head. He paused, waiting, maybe for Tugger to continue, before asking, "and...what's the Heaviside Layer?"

"All the mice you can eat."

"...What?"

Tugger laughed again, not unkindly. "It's, well, I suppose it's the afterlife. Or an afterlife. Or maybe just somewhere in between here and the afterlife--after all, the cat who's chosen to go can be reborn, and can come back, so maybe it's not the complete afterlife."

Mistoffelees didn't really follow, but was enjoying Tugger's markedly serious attitude. He was still smiling. He was honestly telling a story, not putting on a show. It was nice.

"So what's it like?"

"I don't think I can really help you with that one."

"Oh...right." Tugger had never been there. Misto mentally slapped himself on the forehead. "Okay, who does he pick? Or how does he pick?"

"Well, I don't really know, he knows everycat in the world it seems like, he probably already knows who he's gonna send. Usually it's someone old, or someone who's seen a lot of life, anyway. Legends say Gingivere, Dinah, Grimalkin--cats like that--were all picked at some point."

Mistoffelees blinked.

"You've never heard of any of them."

"No."

"You will," Tugger smiled. "So last year, Deuteronomy picked an old cat, Tailchaser, I didn't know him really, almost no one did, he'd been gone for a long time; and before that was Chessie, she wasn't old at all. Three years ago was really sad, Deuteronomy chose Tobermory, who--well--everyone just loved him. Even all the humans downtown."

Mistoffelees sat thinking about all the cats he didn't know. Then he asked, "What actually happens at the ball?"

"Well, some of us are introduced especially to everyone, usually with a song--I have one--and, let's see, Jennyanydots, Skimbleshanks, Bustopher Jones. Cats who might get chosen, or who just have a story to tell. Munkustrap is putting together a performance for Deuteronomy, something about Pollicles and the Rumpus Cat and whatnot. And you know about the Growltiger show." Mistoffelees nodded while Tugger thought for a moment. "I dunno. A ton of stuff happens. Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer will be here. One year we sang about Simpkin when he came, poor guy, the humans didn't understand him."

Mistoffelees nodded, a little flustered with all the new names. Tugger continued, "I mean, every year it's different, depending on who shows up and if it's a surprise and if anything happens--like in the middle of one year, Munkus chased off a huge owl and everyone started singing about him. He was only, like, three."

"Wow!" Mistoffelees was thoroughly impressed, as the image of a big white-feathered beast at least five times Munkustrap's size floated across his mind; he could see everyone else ducking for cover while the silver tabby took swipes at the enormous bird.

"He doesn't want us to sing about him every year, though," Tugger continued. "Dumbass," he added.

Mistoffelees laughed. That was okay, he was pretty excited now about the songs for Tugger and Bustopher Jones. He asked, "Who do you think will go this year? To the Heaviside Layer?"

Tugger sat up and looked at the sky, took a long time to think. "A lot of people think Gus has it in the bag," he finally said. "Asparagus, I mean--you know--the 'theatre cat'." He paused again, marvelling at how good a listener Misto was; Tumblebrutus would have run off by now, Bill Bailey would have tackled him by now, and the girls never actually paid attention to what he _said_... He appreciated the respect Mistoffelees gave him, which he felt was deserved. "So Gus, that would be nice. He's ancient. ...He'd deserve it."

"Will you go?" Mistoffelees asked.

"Not this year."

"But would you?"

"...If they asked me. Sure. Deuteronomy won't pick me, though, kid. Not for a long time, and not before my brothers and everything."

Brothers. Misto had suspected Munkustrap and Tugger were related, and Munkustrap talked like he already knew they were, or something. But brothers, like--"Who else is your brothers? I mean are your brothers..."

Tugger stopped for a moment and lookedd at Mistoffelees in surprise, then regained his composure. "Munkustrap and Alonzo, I thought you knew that."

"Alonzo too?!" Mistoffelees looked pleased. He liked Alonzo, even though he was a little to uptight for Tugger's taste. "Anyone else?"

Tugger swallowed. "Not--no--not ... here, no other brothers," he said lamely, then added, "or sisters, either."

:

The ball began as planned, as far as Mr. Mistoffelees could tell. He suspected most of the adult cats were surprised that he sang an introduction, but when they'd come to the kittens and asked Victoria, she had clearly not wanted to sing. Dancing, that was fine; so Mistoffelees relieved her of the pressure and did the singing himself.

In retrospect, perhaps he should have at least warned Victoria.

He was all ready for a big thank you from Munkustrap, too, who looked ready to praise his skillful introducing, but instead went on about something like a gumbie cat (a phrase Mistoffelees was completely unfamiliar with). So he was pretty thoroughly embarrassed, but made up for it by telling himself he had at least spared Victoria the humiliation.

Mistoffelees participated as little as possible in all the tap-dancing and extravagant costume-wearing. Tugger startled him when he interrupted Munkus and Jennyanydots, but he wasn't overly surprised by the act. The tom was the center of attention for a good five minutes, which was fun--although Mistoffelees had never known his friend to eat grouse, and thought that kicking the soccer ball at him was pretty unnecessary on Tugger's part. For that, he interjected his opinion that the tom was incredibly boring, but it turned out that made for an easy rhyme, which of course he ran with.

Tumblebrutus played along, as did Pouncival and some other of Misto's friends, but the song was pretty--all over the place--well, Mistoffelees was just a lot more comfortable being a wallflower for the time being. Tugger turned around and winked at him at one point, which felt like participation enough.

The Rum Tum Tugger still had the kittens--the girls, anyway--and Plato seemed interested, too, come to think of it--in the palm of his hand. Or paw. And Bombalurina was overcome; she definitely put the little girls in their place. However, Tugger was on a roll, and he showed her up in front of everyone (caught up in the moment or just feeling vengeful, the tuxedo couldn't tell). Mistoffelees felt bad watching and, in a sense, egging them on, but he noticed that even the more pompous and strict of the adult cats sat and watched, just like him. Munkustrap was grinning until Demeter turned around and gave him a look.

The Rum Tum Tugger's interruption had been expected; on the contrary, Grizabella's interruption was a downright shock. And the former--well, he looked pissed, and didn't bother to hide it.

Mistoffelees observed, a little frightened, as Tugger gave the bedraggled queen his most menacing leer and stalked out of sight. As any curious kitten would do, he followed.

:

He picked his way through a pile of trash bags. There; the Rum Tum Tugger, crouched on that milk-crate, with his back to Mistoffelees. Silently, the kitten slunk in a small circle, trying to get a look at Tugger's face. Or a look at whatever Tugger was looking at, because he appeared to be staring emptily at nothing. Without thinking, Mistoffelees stepped on a pop can, which crumpled noisily, and even scared himself. Tugger spun from his crouch, startled and suddenly alert, scrubbing his face with his paws. The tuxedo could only stare in guilty surprise. Tugger was shaking his head. His eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to see--I mean, I wanted to know if you were--I just--" Mistoffelees stammered.

Tugger's glare was cold as he pushed roughly past Mistoffelees and disappeared around a pile of cardboard boxes.

:

:

**AN/INDEX**  
For those who are interested, or for those who didn't notice, all the cats Tugger mentioned having gone to the Heaviside Layer and/or attending the ball do exist -- or at least as much as the Rum Tum Tugger exists, as they are all literary allusions (if you will). The following information is courtesy of wikipedia and I really have no background knowledge concerning most of the cats whose names I borrowed.

**Gingivere**: The wildcat appeared in Brian Jacques' _Mossflower_. He helped the good guys (hooray!).

**Dinah**: Alice's kitten (Lewis Carroll's _Alice in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking Glass_).

**Grimalkin**: Translates as "gray demon". The cat comes from many stories: Baldwin's _Beware the Cat_ (1570); the witches' cat in Shakespeare's _Macbeth_; Grimalkin's owner falls in love with her in Fielding's _Tom Jones_. There were apparently real Grimalkins, too. The name can now refer to any gray female cat.

**Tailchaser**: The main character of _Tailchaser's Song_ by Tad Williams; his full name is Fritti Tailchaser and he lives in a world uncannily like the Jellicles' created by Williams. The plot of the novel revolves around Fritti Tailchaser's investigation of disappearances of his cat friends.

**Chessie**: Logo/Motto for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway System (later the Chessie System Railroad). The cat was their logo and went with the slogan "sleep like a kitten and arrive fresh as a daisy on the C&O". (Was she related to Skimbleshanks...?)

**Tobermory**: The title character of a short-story satire by Saki. His owner teaches him to speak. (Plus I LOVE the name!)

**Simpkin**: From Beatrix Potter's _The Tailor of Gloucester_. Simpkin traps mice under teacups, then gets sent off to buy food and silk, and his owner frees the mice, and in the end the mice save the day, blah blah blah. (I was very excited to be able to use a cat from Beatrix Potter, so perhaps his version of events is different.)


	10. Old Deuteronomy

**AN**: Again, such kind feedback for the last chapter! Plus a record number of reviews, YAY! I must say, I really enjoyed writing chapter nine, its been a tough act to follow, writing-wise, so I hope this reads just as well!  
(I don't think any of that made sense. Just know that I'm very grateful to everyone, all my new reviewers, all my old reviewers--_muah_! Feel free to read, enjoy, drool, whatever you please, just keep up the reviewing, they make my day every time!)  
I'm glad the "legendary" cat names I included went over well; I was thinking about it, I liked the idea of Tugger ticking off random names from past balls, I didn't want to use Growltiger or Griddlebone etc., and I didn't didn't didn't want to try to make up any Jellicle names of my own! So anyway, thanks everyone, and off with the TENTH chapter.

**Disclaimer**: At this point, now that I've gotten into recounting the events of the Jellicle Ball, I hardly even own my own ideas. Ah, well.

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Mr. Mistoffelees was considerably uncomfortable when he returned to the group. Tugger had left him standing alone and awkward, and he didn't dare follow the tom again, so he rejoined the tribe in time to find this Grizabella character limping away as everyone observed callously. Mistoffelees took a place with the others and gave her a look of contempt, mostly for unsettling the Rum Tum Tugger as she had.

It wasn't long, though, before Mistoffelees was thoroughly enjoying himself while everyone else sang about Bustopher Jones. He flitted about between Munkustrap, who look surprised and pleased at Misto's forwardness, the kittens, who fooled around less than usual, and Bustopher himself, who didn't pay much attention (this song was about _him_, after all, not his miniature look-alike).

Mistoffelees also liked to see how all the other cats treated each other. It made him think of several very old friends reunited after a long hiatus, friends who had once loved, helped, comforted, and respected one another--like that salute Munkus gave Bustopher Jones! Misto never would have guessed! Everyone had adored Jenny, too, and Tugger--in his own way. Speaking of whom, Mistoffelees hadn't seen him still since the appearance of Grizabella.

The tophat! Mistoffelees was undeniably pleased to see the very hat he'd procured seven of his friends from (thankfully, they'd never held it against him, having never fully understood how they came out of the hat in the first place and of course having never suspected Mistoffelees). Munkustrap would thank him later for keeping Bustopher up on his feet, but Misto was used to helping the rotund tom keep balanced after sharing several meals with him.

Suddenly, there was raucous crashing, lights flashed, and everyone was on the alert. A siren blared. Some cats assumed a defensive position (although no threat was in sight) and others scattered into hiding places across the yard. Mistoffelees felt himself yanked from behind and pulled into an upturned trashcan. He heard Demeter shout a name ("Calamity"?) and suddenly a face appeared in the opening of the trashcan, a sleek tortoiseshell tom who he didn't recognize. He twisted himself to get a look at who had brought him into the trashcan and saw the same face as was standing outside; he did a doubletake. Twins? The one inside with Misto was a queen; neither she nor her brother smiled. It was rather unsettling.

A car squeeled around a corner nearby. Was it the people everyone was afraid of?

Then he heard voices talking, laughing, singing, but the toirtoiseshell tomcat had barricaded the only exit from Misto's hiding place. He had a distinct feeling that this was one of those parts of the ball Tugger mentioned not being planned.

:

Mr. Mistoffelees and his two temporary protectors recognized it first; Old Deuteronomy. He'd only met the patriach once since he'd begun living at the junkyard, and he didn't know if it was a scent or just a sensation, but there was no doubt in his mind that the Jellicle Leader was approaching.

Suddenly, Mistoffelees realized his legs were taking him to the elderly tomcat; he hadn't decided to do it, he just...went to him, to Old Deuteronomy himself, went to help him to the clearing they'd made in the junkyard. He moved so slow. Mistoffelees didn't stop to think whether this kind of thing was allowed or not--touching the Jellicle leader!--but rather his body seemed to move without permission while his timid conscience looked on.

Munkustrap began to sing. It was rather like a lullaby.

Mistoffelees could hear from behind him as he held out a paw for Deuteronomy. Munk mentioned how famous and long-lived Deuteronomy was, and Mistoffelees turned around with the leader in time to see the Rum Tum Tugger emerge from a wall of rubbish. He stood behind Munkustrap and thoroughly surprised everyone, including his own brother, and even Mistoffelees who knew he was there, by taking up the song.

Munkustrap stared, stunned, for a moment, before going to Tugger with wide eyes and a proud grin; it dawned upon Mistoffelees that Munkustrap had been missing his brother, had known he'd disappeared, and had probably known why.

They sang about Old Deuteronomy together while Mistoffelees helped the elderly cat forward,

_Well, of all . . .  
Things. . . Can it be . . . really! . . . No!. . . Yes!. . .  
Ho! hi!  
Oh, my eye!  
My mind may be wandering, but I confess  
I believe it is Old Deuteronomy!_

Tugger caught Misto's eye as he let Deuteronomy toward the group. The tom looked so much more solemn than usual, and yet genuinely happy, especially to see Deuteronomy, and maybe to see Misto as well.

Munkustrap came forward. The kittens and, yes, even the adult cats, filed behind him in a kind of fearful awe or reverence, and allowed their protector to greet Old Deuteronomy first. Tugger held his place atop the pipe in the background.

Mistoffelees watched as the rest of the cats welcomed Deuteronomy gleefully, with hugs and happy faces. He could get used to this.

Their leader eyed Munkustrap knowingly, but Mistoffelees couldn't pinpoint why. Deuteronomy also saved a special look for the Rum Tum Tugger, who still had not moved, but gave the old tom an uncharacteristic bow. Mistoffelees was suddenly, inexplicably reminded of Tugger telling him that he and Munkustrap were brothers, and couldn't help but notice that Tugger's perch was a step away from Deuteronomy's place, and that Munkustrap had not yet left the old grey cat's side.

Mistoffelees did not participate in Munkustrap's "play" of sorts, but thoroughly enjoyed Tugger's part, whether it had been planned or not. Frankly, the story about the Great Rumpus Cat was forgettable for Misto because, before he knew it, he had been swept up in what felt like an elaborately rehearsed production; he'd thought the Jellicle Ball had already begun, but no, he'd been sorely mistaken on that part.

:

:

AN: And that is all...let me know, I hope it doesn't feel rushed; in truth I'm just really excited to get to Misto's part :)


	11. The Jellicle Ball

AN: Where I've borrowed T.S. Eliot's poetry, I've changed nothing in spelling or grammar apart from pronoun changes that were made for the musical lyrics. If it seems I've made a silly typo, it's probably just an old British spelling? I dunno, anyway, it's what Eliot wrote.  
--Okay, I'm pretty thoroughly annoyed by myself right now. I had a pretty good portion of the end of this chapter completed, or at least rough-drafted, when I opened a tab for dictionarydotcom and accidentally closed this one. (Maybe it was just a sign from the Everlasting Cat that I needed to do a better job.) Anyway, it was fun to write the second time around, too, so here goes :)

Disclaimer: I don't even own half of what I wrote in this chapter--a bunch of British guys do, as far as I recall.

:

_Jellicle Cats come out to-night  
Jellicle Cats come one come all:  
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright--  
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball._

:

"Macavity!"

This time Misto heard the name properly, but it still didn't mean anything to him. He could be sure now that it was a name because everyone else looked up at the pair of eyes it belonged to leering down at them from high above.

Nearly all the cats vanished so quickly and quietly, it was likely the junkyard itself didn't know where they had gone. He was still out in the open with only Munkustrap and Deuteronomy themselves, when he realized he didn't know what was going on and hadn't hidden (or been hidden as before) and didn't know what to do and wondered if he was in danger...Deuteronomy extended a hand toward the pipe that lay on its side, waking the tuxedo cat up from his panic enough to send him away.

To all the kittens' surprise, Victoria was the first to emerge from hiding and join their Jellicle Leader and Protector. Not to be left behind, Jemima joined them a split-second later. Mistoffelees was bewildered. Everyone began making a reentrance, as though planned, with their own personal description of Jellicle habits or traits.

_We like to practise our airs and graces..._

Mistoffelees found himself saying the words before he could think them.

And soon, he wasn't able to miss the friends he couldn't find. He didn't remember that Tugger hadn't yet come out of "hiding", he didn't notice that Victoria had disappeared into the weaving crowd.

Tumblebrutus, however did not, disappear, that is, because he had put himself at the forefront of the action. Mistoffelees watched him perform such acrobatics that could make even the magician jealous.

_We know how to dance a gavotte and a jig..._

Mistoffelees was getting dizzy. There were so many faces now that he didn't recognize, didn't recognize, didn't recognize...and here he thought Munk and Tugger had introduced him to the whole of the junkyard's population.

_We're quiet enough in the morning hours,  
We're quiet enough in the afternoon,  
Reserving our terpsichorean powers  
To dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon..._

Why did Mistoffelees seem to know this song?

_If it happens to be a stormy night  
We will practise a caper or two in the hall._

The words were barely out of his mouth when Mistoffelees was stopped short by a large pair of feet. The Rum Tum Tugger looked down his nose at the black cat, his face inscrutable.

_If it happens the sun is shining bright..._

They broke eye contact and Tugger announced, "You would say we had nothing to do at all."

Mistoffelees gazed up at the tom until he was swept up, swept up, taken in by the rest in the song.

_Jellicle Cats come out to-night  
Jellicle Cats come one come all:  
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright--  
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball._

Deuteronomy observed from above, and Mistoffelees reminded himself to ask Tugger later if Deuteronomy had ever danced with the rest of them. It was the last thought he could remember having for the next half-hour, for at that point, he became part of the dance. It wasn't a dance he was familiar with, but that didn't seem to make a difference. It wasn't only his friends, such as the Rum Tum Tugger, Munkustrap, Tumblebrutus, and Victoria, that he would lose in the crowd; he would lose himself as well. He couldn't tell if the dance's hypnotic effects were intentional or not.

Looking back several weeks later (a long enough period to sober after this night's events), Mr. Mistoffelees still would not be able to come up with words to describe the Jellicle Ball. It made him dizzy, dizzy, dizzy, but not a sick-to-your-stomach dizzy; maybe it was overwhelming. Overwhelming was a good word, but still not right, because although it was all overwhelming, at the same time it felt very much at-ease.

Later, Mistoffelees could clearly picture every dance step, and the words they all sang, but at the same time, he couldn't quite remember what actually happened. He had several snapshots, but no home video. On the other hand, one thing he recalled very clearly, and that was his moment to shine, when he took the stage alone and danced, danced, danced as he had not yet danced for any of the other cats to see; then he was joined by Alonzo...Pouncival...Tumblebrutus.

Soon though, the boys and their innocence were gently pushed aside for the queens, though not to anyone's displeasure. Mistoffelees was relieved to know that he wasn't the only one who couldn't keep his eyes off of Bombalurina. He would never again believe that he was a good dancer, no matter who told him. He gazed on until he saw the toms approaching, supremely confident, while the queens feigned disinterest. And the tomcats were led by Tugger, to no one's surprise. Mistoffelees was excited to see his friend finally get hold of what he'd been after for so long.

So excited, in fact, that he took the dance floor the moment the others left it; he was alone, and again dancing his heart out as he couldn't remember ever doing, then not alone--to everyone's surprise, Tumblebrutus joined and kept up with the tuxedo cat adeptly. They were quite the well-oiled machine, almost perfectly synchronized for never having considered dancing in front of everyone, least of all together.

Mr. Mistoffelees could not help but notice that when he and Tumble began, the Rum Tum Tugger took a seat with a clear view and made himself comfortable so as to watch.

The whole of the tribe could not be slowed down for long. Soon again they were all swirling, swirling, swirling, and turning and leaping and pirouetting as one, and very suddenly, Old Deuteronomy was among them; everyone slowed; he looked troubled; Mistoffelees found himself face-to-face with the old tom, and the troubled look was wiped away, and then the whole of the Jellicle tribe was dancing for their leader, for their leader, for Deuteronomy.

It stopped.

And what was this, that the other kittens had never, never, never expected from Victoria?

The rest, the audience, was calm, but not calm, on edge, and Victoria--Victoria could dance.

Mistoffelees did not even know the tom with her, her partner, but didn't have the mind at the time to feel chagrined. He had no reason to care, anyway, but in that moment, he didn't have any opinion, only emotion. He felt as though he might be dancing with them, and yes, maybe he was, he was dancing with them. And he was not dancing with them. He was dancing with Electra. He was dancing with Cassandra. He was dancing with Tumblebrutus. He didn't know who he was dancing with. Alonzo. Jemima. The Everlasting Cat himself.

When the dance became more subdued, another presence was felt. The twins were alert, Mistoffelees right behind them. Grizabella. This time, though, she could not crash the party; Tumblebrutus, for once not facing chastisement for his mischief, began to climb after her, but she scuttled away. Her appearance only lent the Jellicles more momentum.

It was off again, again the tribe exploded in joy, no longer dazed, full of energy and happiness.

The Ball was like a game. An unspoken challenge rippled among the cats, to not stop dancing, a competition to stay center-stage when the others could no longer move for fatigue. Each cat knew no one else would ever stop, but kept the game going, nonetheless. Actually, the Rum Tum Tugger separated himself, perhaps to take a breather, but no one suspected so, for he took a place on Deuteronomy's right arm to watch the performance alongside the Jellicle Leader. He was not tired, he did not take a break, he still contended for the title. He took the spotlight, actually, before long, with his brothers. They were a better team by far than Misto and Tumble. Tugger was at the forefront of everyone's vision, his step was the one they followed.

So Mistoffelees followed. He danced until he couldn't feel a limb on his body.

:

_Jellicle Cats come out to-night  
Jellicle Cats come one come all:  
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright--  
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball._

:

It felt finished, it could have been finished, but it could also have gone on forever.

Then she appeared. Again.

This Grizabella obviously had a magic trick of her own: the ability to materialize at will wherever she was least wanted.

The twins looked skittish, and didn't stay long. There was fear on some faces, a hint of pity on others, but no cat's expression could contend with the Rum Tum Tugger's; his face twisted in passionate hate, he stood his tallest and created his most menacing pose before the unwanted queen, then pushed past. He emanated distaste, revulsion, and loathing. Mr. Mistoffelees wondered at whatever kept Grizabella on her feet in Tugger's wake.

Dazed, and even afraid of Tugger, himself, Mistoffelees finally looked back at the scene before him, where Skimbleshanks was ushering Jemima away and Tumblebrutus gave Grizabella a shove. Demeter, kind, sweet Demeter, looked stunned by the kitten's actions and sincerely apologetic, but did not argue when Bombalurina held her back. For his part, Mistoffelees couldn't tell if Munkustrap was protecting his Jellicle friends from Grizabella, or her from them.

Like Jemima, Victoria was admirably accepting, or at least curious of the queen, but was also pulled away. They both gazed at Grizabella's features with interest and even awe.

Mistoffelees was long gone by this time. He had originally been escorted away by a tortoiseshell twin, as before, but had extricated himself from the tom's hold and darted behind an old refrigerator and out of sight. He would search for the Rum Tum Tugger.

:

_Before a cat will condescend  
To treat you as a trusted friend,  
Some little token of esteem  
Is needed, like a dish of cream;_

_...Some are sane and some are mad  
And some are good and some are bad  
And some are better, some are worse--  
But all may be described in verse._

_And there's no doing anything about it!_

:

_Jellicle Cats come out to-night  
Jellicle Cats come one come all:  
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright--  
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball._

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AN: I hope this is good fun for readers--it was a JOY to write, way more so than I expected. (Not gonna lie, the Jellicle Ball had been scaring me since about four chapters ago.) Thanks for reading, feel free to review and continue to enjoy, as always,  
Bird.


	12. With Gus as Growltiger

**AN**: I'd like to thank those of you who pointed out my errors, I've gone back and corrected them.

**Please** note, I hope this chapter doesn't hint toward any personal dislike I might have for Gus the Theatre Cat, or the song, or Sir John Mills, because it's quite the opposite. Coming from a theatrical family, Gus has always been special ever since I read the poem when I was little, and it's a great song in the musical and the movie. It's just that in the context, I think I would feel a little distracted--or anxious--which is how Mr. Mistoffelees feels. I've also disregarded where he sits in the background of Gus's song.

**Also** note, I'm updating tonight because I'll be out of town for much of the weekend. I would never live with myself if I updated three times in five days and then made you wait another five days for the next chapter...

**Disclaimer**: So yesterday, for a very scary period of time, I didn't think I owned my kitty Pippin anymore. The back door blew open, right? She is the type who would run away. So I searched for her for like, 45 minutes, and then my mother came home from work and was all, "Hi Pippin" inside in the foyer, where I had looked for my cat at least 6 times. In conclusion, I do still own Pippin, Pippin is a brat, and I do not own Cats, the musical.

:

So much for that quest, Mistoffelees might have said, having not come any closer to finding Tugger than finding the Heaviside Layer before Tumblebrutus crossed his path and shoved a pirate hat over his ears.

Just out of sight, Tugger lay flat on his back, palms shoved angrily into his eyes in a feeble attempt to rid himself of the image of Grizabella the Un-Glamour Cat. Her voice floated faintly across the yard, and the tom shuddered.

_Why will the summer day delay -- when will time flow away?_

_:_

_Moonlight  
Turn your face to the Moonlight  
Let your memory lead you  
__Open up, enter in  
If you find there the meaning of what Happiness is,  
__Then a new life will begin_

:

Mr. Mistoffelees was agitated.

Tumblebrutus had all but dragged him across the junkyard to sit and listen to Jellylorum go on about Gus (_Asparagus, as I ought to have mentioned before_, he thought contemptuously.) The theatre cat was so very sweet and kind, and Misto would have loved nothing more than to hear all about his escapades as Firefrorefiddle, but seriously, Jellylorum was not exactly captivating, and he had a good five minutes left of this song that he could be using to hunt down the Rum Tum Tugger.

He mentally slapped himself for even coming close to disrespecting an elder. But Tugger had looked so _wrong_ when he'd run off that second time. It was a matter of priorities.

When Tumble's full attention was on Gus, Mistoffelees backed up very slowly, his size for once a blessing--it allowed him to step lightly across the pile of trash. He began to turn...very...slowly...and found himself looking at Jennyanydots, who was also enthralled by the performance, and would not have approved of an interruption. It was a moment for cursing if Mistoffelees were more foul-mouthed.

He turned around again, cautiously, and tried sliding gently around behind Tumblebrutus, but when he glanced there to his left, he saw two orange-and-brown cats who might have been brother and sister. They blocked his only remaining excape route. Tumble patted Misto's knees excitedly, pointing at Gus, who was gleefully reenacting his heroic actions in the face of an imagined house engulfed in flames.

Mistoffelees scanned the junkyard, ticking off the names of the cats he knew. _Nearly_ everyone was here. In fact, for a second, he thought he saw Tugger's mane, but Old Deuteronomy had just shifted slightly on his tire.

Gus said something about Growltiger--yes!--and Mistoffelees was grabbed violently from his perch along with the rest of the 'pirate crew'. Tumblebrutus looked ecstatic, probably because his name came straight from the legend of Growltiger's Last Stand. Soon, any tomcat who had never terrorized the coasts of England was forgotten.

Growltiger's act was unlike any this Ball had seen; they were telling a story, actually recounting a plot, and not one of someone--shall we say--_likable_. Further, Mistoffelees had practiced this song several times with Gus himself, but the theatre cat had never been in costume. It was a spectacle the likes of which hadn't been seen for decades, surely not since the days Growltiger had prowled the stage, and was a sight Mistoffelees had never even imagined. He'd never been to the docks, had never seen the ships, and had only ever pictured Gus in attire similar to his own for this song.

_Growltiger was a Bravo Cat, who travelled on a barge:  
In fact he was the roughest cat that ever roamed at large.  
From Gravesend up to Oxford he pursued his evil aims,  
Rejoicing in his title of 'The Terror of the Thames'._

And Growltiger's--Gus's--laughter echoed with a brutality that struck every cat who watched with cold fear.

Mistoffelees, Tumblebrutus, Munkustrap, Alonzo, and Bill Bailey, Growltiger's faithful crew, took pleasure in describing Growltiger's ghastly facade (his missing eye and ear were some of Bill's favorite parts). That laughter! That mad cackle! It made even Mistoffelees jump in alarm.

Chills ran up and down every spine present when it was announced: GROWLTIGER'S ON THE LOOSE!

It was the 'pirate crew's' favorite line by far, and Gus's too, it appeared, because they each took the chance to leap at a Cat in the 'audience' and--well--scare the living daylights out of him or her. Mistoffelees chose Jemima, the kitten nearest him, and she squealed in surprise and fright; Growltiger himself (Gus, Mistoffelees had to keep reminding himself) stuck his face in little Carbucketty's and delivered the line with wild abandon, and Skimbleshanks had to grab the kitten around the middle to keep him from bolting in terror.

_Woe to the weak canary, that fluttered from its cage;  
Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that faced Growltiger's rage;  
Woe to the bristly Bandicoot, who lurks on foreign ships,  
And woe to any Cat with whom Growltiger came to grips!_

After the crew reported Growltiger's hatred for foreign Cats, the song ground to a much slower tempo; it rocked gently, as a moored barge on a peaceful summer night.

_His bucko mate, GRUMBUSKIN, long since had disappeared,  
For to the Bell at Hampton he had gone to wet his beard;_

The crew proudly indicated Munkustrap as he took leave of the ship's deck.

_And his bosun, TUMBLEBRUTUS, he too had stol'n away--  
In the yard behind the Lion he was prowling for his prey._

The bosun's namesake paced ravenously as if on a mousehunt--rather overdrammatically, really--before the rest of the crew stepped aside for Jellylorum, stunning in Griddlebone's attire of silky white long hair. Mistoffelees was again astonished by the intricacy and magnificence of the costumes. Then they took up a duet--their last, Mistoffelees couldn't help but note--that even the 'crew' had not heard rehearsed.

_... "Billy! Billy M'Caw!  
Come give us a tune on your moley guitar!"  
Billy'd strike up on his moley guitar,  
And Billy'd strike up on his moley guitar.  
And then we'd feel balmy, in each eye a tear,  
And emotion would make us all order more beer ..._

After the Ballad of Billy McCaw, the pirate crew and those dressed as Siamese waiting in the wings recounted Growltiger's downfall.

_The ruthless foe pressed forward, in stubborn rank on rank;  
Growltiger to his vast surprise was forced to walk the plank.  
He who a hundred victims had driven to that drop,  
At the end of all his crimes was forced to go ker-flip, ker-flop._

And the audience felt for the victim, despite his cruelty, but when the last verse was belted in celebration, those watching also felt the joy that flooded the inhabitants of Wapping, Maidenhead, and Victoria Dock.

The performance had floored everyone who watched. Gus could put on a show, despite his age. Growltiger was a bravo cat, indeed.

:

:

**AN**: Well, there was going to be some more actual substance to this chapter, but it didn't seem to fit or flow well, and I'd like to keep a relatively consistent chapter length going. As it is, I'm a ridiculously ginormous fan of Growltiger (one of my two favorite Old Possum poems by far), so it was fun to reread and listen to the song and all. And fun to picture Tumblebrutus as a pirate. Arrr.


	13. Macavity

**AN: (Important)** I've obviously reordered the events in this chapter, it's different from the movie, and so I assume also from the staged musical (which i've never seen, _tear_). I think it makes more sense...**it goes like this**: Skimble does his thing, there is a false Macavity scare that freaks everyone out, so Demeter and Bomba start to sing about him, THEN he catnaps Deuteronomy, THEN we have a catfight (for purposes of this story, I think Munkustrap should go after Macavity as soon as Deuteronomy is catnapped), and then Mac douses the lights and we go on to Misto's wonderful song

**Disclaimer**: I'm not Andrew Lloyd Webber, I'm not T. S. Eliot, I have little right to reuse their characters, and I have no right to claim ownership of them.

:

These modern productions are all very well, but now that it was over, the excitement faded. Gus and Jellylorum stood alone and plain in front of everyone. They looked small, and Mistoffelees also felt small. Tumblebrutus alone still wore his pirate outfit, even though Mistoffelees, blinded by adrenaline, could hardly remember removing his own. Growltiger's Last Stand was the most fun he could remember having (though he could only remember so far back as Gus and Jellylorum's duet about the Theatre Cat, sill coming off the high of excitement.)

His pulse began to relax when Jellylorum led Gus out of sight, and he finally returned to the mortal world when he heard Old Deuteronomy say something about Skimbleshanks. And he remembered who hadn't shown up for Growltiger's Last Stand.

Mistoffelees was out of sight before Skimbleshanks even woke up (the cat had admirable sleeping skills, like the ability to drift off at inopportune times or in seemingly uncomfortable positions). He would miss the entire song, but this time, his search was not in vain. The friend he looked for was pacing in circles between the hood of the old car and a threadbare sofa.

"Rum Tum Tugger, I thought you might like some company."

The addressee spun and stared. His eyes were red, but there was no evidence of tears. The younger cat decided he was just tired, to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Did Munkustrap send you?" he asked curtly.

Mistoffelees shook his head, and sat sedately on the ground before the sofa. Tugger kept staring. Finally, he let himself slide down the back of the couch into a seated position, and took several deep breaths. So they sat, side by side, not speaking or moving or even looking at one another. They could hear Skimbleshanks, who had taken charge of the junkyard, it seemed, but neither cat was listening intently--or listening at all, really.

And Tugger told Mistoffelees about his past. How his mother, from whom he inherited both his luxiurious sorrel mane and his self-assured vanity, heard the stories about living in the big city. How she had left for such a life, seduced by Grizabella the Glamour Cat to try it for herself. They had left with three other queens when the Rum Tum Tugger was ten months old, when Macavity had only recently attended his first ball and when Munkustrap and Alonzo were still only half Tugger's age. During the day, he knew he was old enough to be on his own, and bragged to his brothers about the cardboard box he didn't have to share with anyone, and strutted across the yard until the adults all believed he was wholly matured. During the night he was very cold, and didn't move at all but for shivering, and took no opinion one way or the other about pheasant or grouse.

He supposed it was within the first few months of his mother's absence that he shunned the presence of his brothers and indeed all the toms, and took to keeping company with the likes of Bombalurina, Cassandra, or Rumpelteazer...Demeter when she allowed it. He would have them believe that he was not the innocent kitten that slept in his box at night.

He told what felt like his entire life story. Mistoffelees listened, and understood.

"Less than a year later, Macavity left, too," Tugger went on without thinking.

Mistoffelees' brow furrowed. "You keep mentioning this Macavity."

"Yeah," Tugger said distantly. Recounting his personal history had made him slightly unaware of the present.

Mistoffelees, though, remembered the name and how much those eyes scared everyone. "Tugger," he said sharply, and the tom looked up in surprise. "Macavity. Demeter's been shouting that name all night. Who's Macavity? Is he a cat? Is he a Jellicle?"

Tugger stared, open-mouthed, but was unable now to change the subject. And to keep secrets. Mistoffelees only returned the stare expectantly.

_That's what you get for not even paying attention to yourself_, Tugger chided himself mentally.

He took a deep breath. "Macavity. He can be called the Mystery Cat, or the Napoleon of Crime, or the Hidden Paw, what have you."

"He's a criminal?"

"You could say that. He...he's done bad things. Around town. He and Demeter have a history, but she doesn't talk about that."

Mistoffelees nodded in understanding.

"He and I have a history, come to think of it," Tugger mumbled. "Macavity. Used to live here, with us." What was this, beating around the bush? Was he ashamed to claim the Hidden Paw as a relative? The Rum Tum Tugger is shameless. Maybe it just felt wrong to tell Mistoffelees, little Misto, the kitten who had cried on that front stoop, who for some reason still looked up to him, that he was made of the same stuff as the infamous Napoleon of Crime.

"And you said he left," Mistoffelees prodded.

Tugger cleared his throat, but his mouth was very dry. "Yes." Licked his lips. "He's my brother."

"Him, too?" Mistoffelees replied, with no other reaction that might indicate he was mortified, insulted, or otherwise surprised to find Tugger was related to Macavity the Mystery Cat, himself. "I thought you said it was just Munkustrap and Alonzo!"

Tugger was taken aback. He stammered a moment before being able to answer, "Well, I figured--it's kind of hard to admit, I mean, Macavity isn't exactly respectable company..."

Mistoffelees looked thoughtful. "...I guess...but I don't even know what he looks like...and anyway, it doesn't matter, you're respectable company yourself, right?"

The tom was dumbfounded. He'd never thought he would get such a positive reaction for being Macavity's brother, he'd never thought of himself as respectable company, and surely he didn't know how to respond to someone who said so. It made sense, looking back; Misto didn't know any better, right? He hadn't even heard of Macavity, he wouldn't even consider holding their relationship against Tugger. Still, he didn't know what to say back.

Mistoffelees dropped the subject with an ease that was equally surprising. "So were you sad when he left?"

"I--yes, I guess--"

"He wasn't all bad, then."

"...No. No, maybe not." There was a pause, and Tugger continued, "He was the only other older relative I ever felt close to, I guess. With my mom, of course."

"And you were sad when she left, too," Misto said a little more quietly.

"Yes," Tugger said softly. Without thinking, he then asked, "Were you, too?"

Mistoffelees thought for a second, and Tugger was about to clarify the question when the black cat said, "I missed her." Then he smiled. "But this is a lot more fun than sleeping in a box!"

Tugger laughed.

After a second, Misto queried curiously, "How did Munkustrap feel?"

"Oh--we don't have the same mother. We're only related on our father's side. Old Deuteronomy, you know."

Mistoffelees looked thoroughly impressed.

Then lightning struck, or seemed to strike, but either way the toms' were suddenly tense, hair standing on end. Several people shouted Macavity's name, and Mr. Mistoffelees disappeared to see what was going on. Tugger relaxed; this had now happened, what, 47 times tonight? Mac was only messing with them.

:

He didn't know what she thought she was doing there, but she needed to be gone. Tugger leapt from his crouch at Grizabella. He didn't know if he would try to hurt her, he wasn't thinking about that--just get her out of his sight, that's all he wanted--when he heard his name cried out...

Mistoffelees was frantic, and Tugger suspected the shouts he could hear on the other side of the car were the cause. The poor tuxedo tomcat had obviously fled the scene, and now looked near tears. Tugger was almost thrown to the ground when Mistoffelees tackled him in a frightened hug; he held the smaller cat close, but began edging around the car to see what had happened. Grizabella had vanished, but was forgotten, anyway.

Then, Tugger heard several queens yelling the name, but ... surely he hadn't done anything? Not in the last ten minutes, he couldn't have...

The signature sounds of a catfight floated across the junkyard and Tugger wanted to help. He pried Mistoffelees off of him and gripped his shoulders.

"Tell me what happened."

Mistoffelees babbled. His speech was too fast to follow, but Tugger made out the names of "Macavity," "Deuteronomy," and "Demeter," confirming his worst fears. Macavity had always had the worst timing. Or rather, from his own point of view, maybe the best. But what was this about a catnapping?

"Misto--Misto--shh!--stop, it's okay, you have to tell me--Macavity catnapped someone?"

"D-De-he catnapped D--Oh--"

"Demeter?"

"No, Old Deuteronomy!!"

The Rum Tum Tugger felt as though his vocal cords had been frozen. He stared unseeingly at Mistoffelees, still holding him tightly by the shoulders. Not Deuteronomy, why tonight ... why _ever_ ... oh, Mac, what in the name of the Everlasting Cat...?

"Tug?" Mistoffelees whimpered.

His mind raced, but must have been running in place. He wanted to think, to plan, to react somehow, but his mind didn't do anything. The icy feeling had spread from his throat to his stomach and obviously to his brain; his unmoving stare began to frighten Mistoffelees.

"Tugger?" he asked again.

Think.

_...I was talking to Mistoffelees._

Okay, that was a start. He was thinking.

_And then Skimbleshanks was singing--no, wait, that was before wasn't it?..._

He couldn't keep anything straight. Very abruptly, Mistoffelees shouted his name once more at exactly the moment he heard Demeter scream, and was awoken from his stupor. He released the kitten--well, he was a year old now, so _cat_, but anyway--he released Mistoffelees and said flatly, "Deuteronomy's gone."

Misto nodded silently.

Yes, Tugger remembered now. He remembered hearing the laughter he'd grown up with (granted, when Macavity was young, it didn't have that evil bite to it), he remembered Demeter and Bombalurina singing about him. Tugger didn't want to hear; he already knew all the stories about his brother's crimes, he didn't want to hear them all over again. This ball was not going at all as he'd hoped, from top to bottom.

Ah, then he remembered why he hadn't gone back to watch Bomba dance--Grizabella had shown her face, again, just to him, the nerve of that queen. She poked her head around that sofa and stared at him; he'd seen the recognition on her face, and he could feel his heart pumping and his blood boiling while he glowered at her, the queen who'd convinced his mother the outside world was better than the junkyard, kittens or no kittens--

"Deuteronomy's gone," he repeated. "Okay." Distant shouts and cries. He heard a howl, a sound only a cat in pain and anger could make, and he knew that voice; "--Munkustrap--"

Before he realized what he was doing, Tugger had left Mistoffelees and leapt onto the hood of the car, the direction of his brother's voice. Mistoffelees' squeal brought him to a halt; he glanced back at the black cat, who looked so tiny from here... from behind the car, there seemed to be chaos, several more shouts, but they were triumphant; and then he saw him. Macavity. His oldest brother.

His fur was wilder than Tugger remembered, but looking up above at Macavity, he remembered why no one used to believe the two of them and their longer hair were related to Munkustrap. He craned his neck as Macavity climbed higher. He looked like a phantom against the starlit sky, clutching his side in pain, but still more menacing than any cat they'd ever seen. He didn't know Tugger was there, but the younger tom could only stare, open-mouthed, at the spectre his brother had become, with his fiery crown and talon-like claws. For some reason, Tugger felt very out of breath. Where had Mac taken their father?

The thought broke the spell he'd fallen under, and he turned back to the little trembling Mr. Mistoffelees.

"Misto! We need to get Deuteronomy back!"

But Mistoffelees was also looking high up at the mystery cat. Macavity suddenly cackled, holding handfuls of wire and cable aloft. In a flash of deadly sparks--lightning?--Macavity was suddenly illuminated, like fire, like some demon--and then he was gone, leaving only darkness behind.

Mistoffelees was only a pair of eyes on the ground in front of the car. Tugger went to him. "Where's Old Deuteronomy?" the tiny cat whispered.

"I don't know," Tugger said softly. "I don't know how we're going to find him--we should look for him--"

Then he stopped, reacting to his own words. Was this situation not unlike Jellylorum's predicament with the missing kittens? And that time, hadn't...

"Mistoffelees," Tugger hissed urgently. "Can you get him? Can you get Old Deuteronomy?"

More tears fell. "I--but I don't know where he is!!"

"You didn't know where Tumblebrutus was!"

The cats stared at one another as the idea dawned on them both. "I can get him!" Mistoffelees stated, surprised, like_ "I can get him, can't I?"_

Tugger grabbed the magician by the paw and pulled him along onto the car and then up the pile of junk beside it. He was not cold anymore. He was confident. The Rum Tum Tugger had things under control.

"I can get him!" Misto repeated, louder.

"You can get him!"

"I can get him!"

The lights were gone, and still he could only make out Misto's white patches. Tugger saw a spotlight, Skimbleshanks' light, the one Tumblebrutus was using with their "train", he realized. Good thinking, good for Tumble. His little spotlight scanned the heaps of trash above the cats' meeting place.

_Macavity's not there._

Tugger thought the words moments before they were whispered by the whole of the Jellicles. It was a mantra he had learned long ago, even before Macavity left, when they used it while playing tag or hide-and-go-seek.

He jumped in surprise when the light nearly focused on himself; then he saw it was pointed at his brother, just below him. Munkustrap got up. He was okay. Demeter went to him--good old Demeter, always liked her--not like that, of course--anyway, take care of my brother, and he'll be fine. Tugger could now relax completely--even make himself comfortable here on this box. Mistoffelees had disappeared, perhaps literally, he thought to himself. If he had taught the kid nothing else, at least it was how to make a flashy entrance.

We have to find Old Deuteronomy.

_Not to worry_, Tugger thought._ Don't you worry. This is going to work._

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	14. The Original Conjuring Cat

**AN**: Alright! The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees at last! In my opinion, the climax of the story is done and gone, so this chapter is just resolution..or maybe another climax and resolution, but anyway I hope it does its job. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would write a story with more than, uh, one chapter...and here we are, at **fourteen**. I can't tell you all, those of you who have read from beginning to end, how much I appreciate it, whether you reviewed or not. Somebody has to read, or my job here wouldn't be worth much of anything!

**Disclaimer**: Calm down, I'm almost done, I'm almost done, I'll only borrow them for a bit more...

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_You ought to ask Mr. Mistoffelees!  
The Original Conjuring Cat--  
(There can be no doubt about that).  
Please listen to me and don't scoff. All his  
Inventions are off his own bat.  
There's no such Cat in the metropolis;  
He holds all the patent monopolies  
For performing surprising illusions  
And creating eccentric confusions.  
At prestidigitation  
And at legerdemain  
He'll defy examination  
And deceive you again.  
The greatest magicians have something to learn  
From Mr. Mistoffelees' Conjuring Turn._

Tugger had everyone's attention, now. He wouldn't admit so aloud, but he also thoroughly appreciated Tumblebrutus keeping the spotlight trained on him. Actually, he probably would admit so aloud, but now was not the time. Now was Misto's time.

_Listen to me. Don't scoff. Tugger's being serious for once, I know, it's weird. Just listen, for real, this kitten--cat--he's amazing. _

Tugger wasn't sure what impressed him more--Mr. Mistoffelees' ability to forgive, to see the bright side of his situation, or his ability to pull seven kittens out of a hat--but something impressed him, either way, and he couldn't help but feel that twinge of envy. He only hoped he could communicate everything to all his other friends; after all, Etcetera was probably staring intently at him for reasons other than to absorb his description of Mr. Mistoffelees.

He tried to fit in as much information as he could, because after all, only Bombalurina had ever witnessed Misto's magical prowess, and even she had only seen a silly card trick. He tried to tell everyone about everything, the dice, the silverware, how it was only a tiny black cat! Tugger couldn't remember bragging about anyone this much other than himself, and still didn't feel he was doing his friend any justice at all, but everyone listened, and followed, and it built up great suspence since only a few knew who he was even talking about.

And the suspence hadn't built for nothing; in a flash of blinding light, distinctly different from the lightning that had announced Macavity's presence, Misto was among them; for effect, he cried, "Presto!" and light returned to the junkyard, from where, maybe only Mistoffelees knew. He and Tugger exchanged a knowing look before he showed everyone what the tom had left out of his description--because he could _dance_. Probably nobody remembered Mistoffelees dancing during the Ball itself, except maybe Tugger, or Tumblebrutus, or an anonymous admiring queen, but this act was far and above anything they'd seen or even expected out of Mistoffelees, anyway. Tugger found himself doing poor imitations of the magician's impressive moves.

The dancer said nothing else, which prompted Tugger to continue with as much worshipful detail as he could, and to throw in mention of Misto's reticence and painful timidity.

_And not long ago this_ _phenomenal_ _Cat  
Produced_ seven kittens _right out of a hat!_

Later, Tugger wouldn't even remember the specific stunts Mistoffelees performed, but would remember how they left him in awe and disbelief. More magic, more lightning, more dancing. For his part, he tried to help put on the show--if he had ever belted a song with more pride, he couldn't recall when--but he also knew that at this point, Mistoffelees needed little assistance in impressing anyone. After all, everyone had already joined in singing

_OH!  
Well I never!  
Was there ever  
A Cat so clever  
As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!_

While the black cat danced, everyone watched. Tugger noticed that no Cat could keep his or her eyes off of Mistoffelees; Coricopat looked amazed, Victoria mesmerized, Munkustrap proud; Alonzo and the kittens looked ready to get up and dance along, but at the same time, didn't dare, just to see what Misto might do next. Tugger held Electra and Etcetera close, but his attention was on Mistoffelees, at whom he glared with a fiendish pride.

Then, very deliberately, Mistoffelees went to the trunk of the car and extricated a scarlet sheet many times his own size, under which he could almost fit the car itself. Suddenly he halted, swept the yard with his gaze, and in dramatic fashion, pointed at Cassandra. _Good choice, mate_, Tugger couldn't help but think before he shook the reaction from his mind. She looked flattered, and followed the black cat's directions while he swung the cloth around, reminiscent of a bullfight. Everyone watching was alive and silent with anticipation.

The magician received assistance from Skimbleshanks and Asparagus, and really anyone who could get a paw on the sheet, and then Cassandra disappeared behind the curtain. She seemed to crawl back to the center of the circle where Mistoffelees dragged her. He gave Tugger a short, determined look, which was all the tom needed to believe this trick would succeed. He thought, anyway, that he knew where Misto was going with this, but then again, he had expected Mistoffelees to use the tophat again.

The littler cat continually glanced up at Tugger, maybe for approval, maybe for reassurance, maybe for luck.

Then, without warning, he grabbed a handful of the red blanket and pulled it back purposefully to reveal Old Deuteronomy.

A hush swept over everyone present. It took several seconds for their stunned expressions to melt into joy, but still no one seemed able to make a sound. Mistoffelees beamed, clearly proud of himself, but his expression indicated he wasn't fully aware of the magnitude of what he had achieved.

Well, the Rum Tum Tugger was never at a loss for words, even if, as he stared into his father's eyes, the only words that came to mind were

_OH!  
Well I never!  
Was there ever  
A Cat so clever  
As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!_

The memories of Macavity, young and old, his mother, Grizabella, the Jellicle Ball, all howled through his mind before settling firmly on Mr. Mistoffelees, whom he made sure Deuteronomy knew was responsible for his safe return.

The rest of the Jellicles joined in the chorus as they welcomed Deuteronomy and praised Mistoffelees. The Rum Tum Tugger made sure his voice was heard above the others, in the small hope that it might express how grateful he was for everything the black cat had given him that night.

:

_I give you: the Magical, the Marvelous ... Mr. Mistoffelees._

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**The End.**

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AN: Whoa! I know it's not exactly epic, but right now it feels like it to little old me. I'm not gonna lie to you, I expected more, but then I wrote those last few lines, and I was like...this is how it ends. I hope it wasn't unsatisfactory...and if it is, let me know, because an "epilogue" or such could totally be in order (especially since that would make 15 chapters, a good round number for my OCD).

I'd like to thank every single one of my reviewers, without whom Prestidigitation clearly would not have got this far. I thank you for your dedication, your kindness, your sincerity, and a few edits. :)

This has probably been my favorite fanfic to write, for many reasons. it came with the tidal wave that was my reintroduction to Cats, including all the times i rewatched my copy of the VHS. The interaction with my readers was thoroughly enjoyable and one-of-a-kind. I got to _finish a story_! The only stories I've ever finished on this site were oneshots, and probably never exceeded 800 words. I also especially enjoyed writing about Mr. Mistoffelees and the Rum Tum Tugger, both of whom I hope I've done justice; it was a pleasure, and while their characterization was probably not perfect with canon or completely fleshed out, it still felt good to write about them.

Overall, there are probably many things I've forgotten that I wanted to say. I hope you all enjoyed.

So this is this, and that is that,

_Bird_


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